Killing Persephone
by Loveless Gia
Summary: Claire can't seem to catch a break. When you're the "It Girl" of bioterrorism, things don't always go as planned. WIP
1. Prologue

Killing Persephone - Prologue

Disclaimer: Resident Evil and it's characters are not mine and never will be. Ever. If they were, there would be more shirtless Leon (om nom nom) and less dead Wesker (LAME).

Authors note: Rani's grandmother is never named in Degeneration, so I gave her the name Parvati. Not real original, I know, but I think it's pretty. This is going to be AU, but follows after Degeneration. So you've been warned.

* * *

Much to her utter disappointment, Claire had not been able to finish her already interrupted vacation with Parvati and her granddaughter Rani. Instead she was called back to TerraSave HQ almost as soon she said goodbye to Leon.

The following month had been full of going over reports with everyone from the CIA to the FBI. And then the news outlets started poking around TerraSave, wanting to get their side of the story and asking questions about the agent that had seen the massacre first hand. Her employers didn't let onto their excitement regarding the press at first, but she soon learned they were all too eager to exploit her involvement with the Harvardville incident. Using the lure of enlightening the public and empowering victims, they had managed to get Claire to agree to a couple of interviews.

Things didn't play out quite like she had thought they would. Claire found herself thrown to the lions, as it were, in what the higher ups called a "campaign" that bordered on the insane. A couple interviews turned into fifteen, and then the next thing she knew her face was plastered on the cover of World Weekly. Everyone was coming out of the wood work, wanting a piece of her.

The media was quick to title her a hero, which she didn't mind. It was nice getting a little recognition for her struggles. But when the fact that she had narrowly escaped from Raccoon City was anonymously leaked to The Metropolitan Times is when the frenzy really started to erupt. **Beauty Survives Beasts—Twice!!** one headline read. She assumed TerraSave was to blame as they stood to gain the most from the revelation, by means of extended public interest in their cause. She felt like her trust had been violated, despite the protests TerraSave executives met her accusations with.

Speaking out about political corruption and encouraging victims to take back their power, she could get behind. The sensationalistic exposure of her personal history she found abhorrent. Everyone wanted to talk to her, ask her about all the God-awful things she had to see and do. If they weren't asking her about the horrible parts of her life, they were trying to dig into the private parts; what shoes did she wear (she didn't know, she bought them at a bodega down the street for five bucks), did she have a boyfriend (no) and, oh, her personal favorite, "just how did such a pretty girl get so tough?" That last one she had to take a breather when ever it came up. If she didn't then she might punch someone. She found it sexist and degrading.

She couldn't go out of her apartment without someone recognizing her and wanting to ask her questions, which was the last straw.

Using a theoretical, permanent departure from the organization as leverage, she demanded a vacation at the very least. Despite a thinly veiled accusation from the organization president about being selfish, she was granted two weeks and a rather generous pay raise. She had only asked for one week away, but she gladly accepted two and the extra money, choosing not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

* * *

Humming quietly to herself, Claire traversed the halls of TerraSave HQ in Manhattan with a barely concealed skip in her step. Finally, after months of waiting she was going to actually get her vacation. A luxurious _two week_ vacation.

She opened the door to her office and stopped in her tracks. On her desk was a gorgeous bouquet of pink and red roses. She hadn't dated anyone in God knew how long so it wasn't from some overambitious beau, and her close friends weren't the type to send random presents. Her brother, maybe, but he certainly wouldn't send flowers. She approached the desk and fished a card from the center of the flower arrangement. When she flipped it open it merely said "Enjoy your vacation. From J"

"J"... she groaned inwardly. The flowers were probably from Joshua White. The man was a whistle blower from the Boston branch of WilPharma and had contacted her after her interview with The Boston Star was published. In his first e-mail to her he had expressed more than a little interest in her in a not-so professional way. It creeped her out that he knew she was going on vacation. She wondered who was responsible for _that_ leak.

Claire balled the card up on her hand and threw it towards her trash can, and it bounced off the rim. Not too bothered by the miss, she turned back to the flowers and stared at them for a moment. She really did like roses, but they were tainted by the fact that such a creepy guy sent them.

She sighed and stole a peek at her watch. It was 2pm and her lunch hour was officially over. Her work load for the day had been disarmingly light and she had finished the last of her paper work an half hour before her lunch. She needed something to do.

Claire picked up the bouquet and ventured out of her office. Maybe she'd pay Yoko a visit and hand off the floral arrangement onto her...

As she made her way down the hall, she felt a slight tap on her shoulder. She turned found herself face to face with her superior, Vincent Davidson. He was a tall man with hair that made him look like he was prepping for a role in Grease rather than countering bioterrorism. "Dr. Davidson," Claire started, "you have more work for me I take it." The man grimaced as he nodded, motioning for her to follow him.

"Unfortunately. Nice flowers, by the way." He replied, leading her down the hall. Claire was about to ask if he wanted them but decided against it. "Are you familiar with Roger Dupree?"

"I've talked to Roger a couple times, but we aren't what you'd call buddies. Why?" Dr. Davidson held his office door open for Claire, who immediately took a seat in front of his desk, placing the flowers on the floor beside her chair. "You're familiar with the liaison program?" He asked, sitting down behind his desk.

"Not very. I know about it, but I can't tell you anything too in depth." Claire replied, lying a little. The truth was, she knew about it and she wasn't keen on the idea. The manager of the pharmaceutical facility the liaison visited signed a waver and let them walk through their laboratories. If everything appeared hunky dory then the facility would get a TerraSave seal of approval. There was too much room for corruption and insincerity in her opinion. It doesn't take much to bribe most people, or intimidate them. If she had a say in the matter the program wouldn't exist.

Dr. Davidson took a deep breath and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He didn't seem frustrated with Claire, but something was definitely bothering him. Claire got a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Today Roger Dupree was supposed to meet with the president of the Adirondack branch of Stella Drugs. On his drive upstate he... got into a bit of an accident." Dr. Davidson said meekly, not meeting her eyes.

"Is he ok?" Claire asked quietly, feeling worry for the man. She didn't know Roger well, but he seemed like a good enough person.

Dr. Davidson shook his head in response.

"No, he's in a coma. We haven't heard much else yet." Claire stared at him, unsure of what she could possibly say. Everything that came to mind just didn't feel right. "It took us months to get Stella Drugs to agree to let one of our people into one of their facilities. If we back out now we might not have a chance to get in there again. We only have three liaisons, all of them indisposed. My superiors want you to cover for Roger." Claire felt her eyes bulge at the news.

"What?"

"You can take a company car, we'll pay for gas. My secretary is printing out directions for you now." She stared at him, unblinking.

"What?" Claire repeated. Why, she couldn't do that, she was going on vacation. What a silly thing to ask her when she was going on her well deserved, overdue--

"If you don't agree to go, I can guarantee the higher ups are going to be pissed." Such informal language snapped Claire out of her funk. Dr. Davidson never said anything worse than "darn".

"Don't you think I'm a little unqualified?" Claire asked, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. It didn't work.

"All you have to do is make a good impression, get branch manager Michael Provano to sign this," he slid a piece of paper across the desk, "And walk through their labs, making sure they adhere to these check lists." He slid across three more sheets of paper, and she took them gingerly. She stared at him, barely containing her aggravation, before giving a heavy sigh.

"Fine. What time do I need to be there?" Claire asked, picking her flowers up off the floor.

"We scheduled the meeting for 6:30." Dr. Davidson checked his watch. "It's 2:10 now. You should probably think about heading out." There were no words strong enough to describe the level of annoyance Claire felt. She stood, clutching the flowers and sheets of paper tightly. Her face was red with irritation, and she wisely chose to bite her tongue. Without a word she turned on her heels and left Dr. Davidson's office.


	2. Chapter 1

Killing Persephone – Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Hasn't changed since the prologue.

Authors Note: Sorry for the delay. Finals and all that.

* * *

Claire cursed as she spotted the trooper at the side of the road ahead of her, trying to brake as inconspicuously as possible. She was going fast, but apparently not fast enough for the man to care when she cruised past him. The cop soon disappeared from her rear view mirror. She let out a small 'yes!', thanking God or what ever deity was out there that she didn't get pulled over. She was going to be late as it was.

Claire saw a sign for her exit and sighed with relief. Her time on the repetitive and long Interstate 87 was coming to an end, finally.

She picked up the page of directions from where it rested in the passenger seat and read over it, glancing between the sheet of paper and the road. While she was excited to get off the Interstate, she was about to drive in the last remaining stand of New York wilderness. She was a little worried, but it seemed to be pretty much a straight shot. She was starting to have an aversion to remote locations due to her past experiences and didn't want to spend too much time away from civilization.

The last leg of the trip felt like it took no time at all. When she pulled into the driveway of the Adirondack branch of Stella Drugs it was 7 o'clock and the sun was already creeping low towards the horizon. Apparently Stella Drugs was very keen on security, as the entire property seemed to be surrounded by a concrete wall that was a good fifteen feet tall. In the dimming light she could make out security cameras perched on the top every few yards. A cold chill went through her at the sight, as it reminded her of what these pharmaceutical companies were capable of. She couldn't help but think the walls probably were meant to keep things in just as much as they were to keep people out. Claire had also noticed that the entrance had thick, steel doors that were probably prepped to slam shut at the first syllable of "outbreak".

When she pulled up to the gate the guard was very scrutinizing, eyeing her as if he thought she had a rocket launcher in her trunk or something. He let her through without a word, but she could feel his eyes on her even as she drove away.

Since it was so late in the day the parking lot was practically deserted, an indication that most of the employees had already left. She would have preferred a heavily populated facility instead of the deserted labs she knew she was going to be going through. The lack of other people wouldn't scare her off, but it wasn't a plus either. She knew it was going to remind her of things she'd rather not remember.

When she parked her car she quickly checked herself over in the rear view mirror. Not seeing a booger hanging out of her nose or the last remnants of her lunch in her teeth she decided she was good to go. She grabbed her brief case from the back seat before pushing her car door open.

As she climbed out of the car she paused, looking at the buildings before her. There were two and they were rather close together, a small courtyard between them. One was an office building and the other was a large, mostly windowless warehouse. Neither were aesthetically unpleasing, they just looked... odd. Cold, even. But she supposed the place didn't have to quaint or inviting.

After adjusting her modest pant suit and flicking a piece of lint off the sleeve, she took a deep breath to steady herself. When she felt adequately centered, Claire walked up to the front door.

It slid open with a mechanical whirr, and she stepped into the brightly lit atrium cautiously. A rather rotund little man sat at the desk before her in a security uniform, eyeballing her with an air of suspicion. "Office hours are over, ma'am. You'll have to come back tomorrow." She handed him her TerraSave employee ID.

"I'm supposed to be meeting with Dr. Provano. I'm about half an hour late, but he should be expecting me."

Still holding onto her ID he grumbled at her. "You're not Roger Dupree. I was told to expect a Roger Dupree From TerraSave. Not a Claire," He looked at her ID, "Redfield." She was about to open her mouth to inform the man of Roger's unfortunate accident when a hand gripped her arm softly.

"Ms. Redfield?" A jovial, feminine voice asked. Claire turned to the woman, her expression questioning. "Hi, I'm Janice Kirby. We've been expecting you." Her face was like one big smile, all teeth and sunshine.

"Oh," Claire started, unsettled by this woman's intensely friendly personality. Despite her unease, she gave Janice a bright smile of her own and extended her hand. "Well it's very nice to meet you." She silently berated herself for not thinking of a more enthusiastic greeting while Janice gave her hand a firm shake.

"Likewise," Janice replied, seeming even happier if that was at all possible.

"I'm here to escort you to Dr. Provano's office. If you'll just follow me..." She trailed off as she turned and began walking. Claire hurriedly collected her ID from the still disgruntled guard and jogged to catch up with the beaming woman. It was a little shaky in her heels, even though they were fairly modest, but she managed to catch up without breaking her neck.

She followed Janice across the atrium and down a short hall to a pair of elevators. The one they were entering was normal enough, but the other was rather... industrial looking. She didn't get enough time to really gawk at it, but she was sure the control panel on its far side had a retinal scanner as well as a finger print identification system. "I've noticed security here is pretty tight." Claire ventured as Janice pressed the floor number. There were only four floors, and they were going to the top.

"Oh yes," Janice cooed, her eyes wide as her bubbliness was replaced with innocent concern. "Security is an issue of utmost importance to us. We don't deal with the more exotic experimentation's of our competitors, but we do have bacteria and chemicals that might pose a risk to someone if handled improperly. Better safe than sorry, as the saying goes."

"I'm very glad to hear that," Claire replied politely, causing Janice to beam again at her in response.

When they arrived at the fourth floor Janice lead Claire to an office with a plaque that read "Michael Provano" on the door. They walked strait in, and Claire was surprised to find herself walking through an elegantly decorated waiting room. The waiting room was nicer than her apartment and probably cost more to decorate than hers did to rent per year. Before Claire had time to take in the more subtle details Janice was leading her through a door opposite of the one they entered.

Dr. Provano's office was sparse but was just as regal as the waiting room. The man himself had thick, coke bottle glasses and a bushy mustache. He was slightly disheveled, as if he didn't put a lot of thought into his appearance.

He looked up from his lap top as she entered and smiled, standing as he offered his hand. "It's nice to meet you Ms. Redfield." he greeted. She returned his smile and shook his hand firmly.

"Nice to meet you too, Dr. Provano," she lied through her teeth, her thoughts going to the vacation she was being deprived of. She heard the door click shut behind her and turned. Janice was gone, having left without a word.

"Please, have a seat." He motioned to the comfy looking chairs in front of his desk. She muttered her thanks and sat, resting her brief case on her lap. Dr. Provano shut his lap top before looking at her with a solemn face. "I'm so sorry to hear about Mr. Dupree. If there's anything we can do, just let us know."

"That is very kind of you," Claire said, trying to keep the tired cynicism out of her voice. She knew he wasn't sorry, but was trying to butter her up. "I will be sure to let my supervisor know."

"Are you going to be our permanent liaison with TerraSave, Ms. Redfield?" He asked. Claire quirked an eyebrow. She didn't think so, as it wasn't a part of her normal job description, and told him as much.

"Not that I wouldn't love to return, but I actually work with families affected by the trauma of biohazard outbreaks. I don't think I'm the permanent liaison for this facility."

"Well I hope you are," he confided. "It's so exciting having a celebrity here." She barely repressed rolling her eyes. Instead she chose to smile pleasantly.

Claire unlocked her brief case and pulled out a manilla folder holding the papers her supervisor gave her, a clip board and pen. She slid the waiver for Dr. Provano to sign across the desk, which he accepted without hesitation. After he was done he slid the document back to Claire with a smile. "Shall we get going?" He asked. Claire tucked the agreement back in the folder and shut it in her brief case. She wondered if all Stella Drugs employees were this friendly and bubbly, all the time. And if so, why it took so long for TerraSave to get someone inside. A ruse, most likely. No normal person was ever this friendly.

"Would it be alright if I left this here?" She asked, motioning to her brief case. "I'd hate to lug it around everywhere." Dr. Provano nodded at her.

"I don't see why not." He replied, standing from his desk. She followed him out of the office and passed Janice in the waiting room, who was sitting at a sensible yet luxurious reception desk. By the looks of things she was getting ready to leave for the day. Claire silently envied the overly perky woman as she followed Dr. Provano into the hall.


	3. Chapter 2

Killing Persephone – Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See the prologue. Oh, and MercWorx Equatorian is the brand name of a specific knife (which I DO NOT own). Trivia! I believe they based Leon's knife in RE4 on one of the MercWorx line.

A/N: Two chapters in one day? What??

Dr. Provano lead her to the elevator. "Since I'm rather anxious to get home, I'll skip the formal tour of the upper levels and just give you the summary." He said with a wink. It wasn't lecherous, but lighthearted. "This floor is where the executives hole themselves away from the world," he said, and she detected an almost bitter lilt to his normally friendly voice. "Third floor is data storage. All our information is kept in three ways." He held up three fingers and counted off on them as he spoke. "It's in our computer system, which is accessible by only designated employees here and at the Stella Drugs main office. It is backed up on flash drives. And some of it is actually backed up on paper." Claire quickly stole a glance at her check list, making sure going through all the files weren't on her list. "Second floor is the personal offices of the researchers. When their work doesn't have to be restricted to the labs, that's where you can find them." Claire's eyes once again flittered down to her check list. "You don't have to check them either." She blushed a little upon being caught, but kept herself reserved. Dr. Provano hit the call button for the elevator and the doors immediately slid open. They stepped inside and the doctor continued as he hit the button for the ground floor. "The first floor has the company gym, locker rooms, primary guard station, medical station—for those pesky paper cuts, of course," he added with an amused chuckle, "and cafeteria. Which, might I add, is phenomenal."

"So where are your labs?" Claire asked, "Out in that ware house?" Dr. Provano shook his head and pointed down. Basement? Claire looked at the buttons on the elevator and only saw above ground levels. "That big, souped up elevator?" She asked as the elevator chimed and the doors slid back open. Dr. Provano tapped his nose and nodded before stepping out. Claire followed him as he approached the industrial looking doors and motioned to the control panel. This close Claire could see that there was a slot to slide an ID card and a lock to insert a key. Talk about over kill...

"Our security has a color system. Blue is for no threat. Designated employees just slide their card," he emphasized his statement by sliding his ID card through the slot. "Green is technically no threat too, but just to be on the safe side," he punched a code into the key pad and the control panel gave a shrill beep, "employees enter their password as well." He tucked his ID back in his pocket. "Yellow you add on the key lock, orange, finger prints. And red..." He leaned forward and gave the retinal scanner a pat. "Ol' Bernie here, as the scientists call it, gets to say hello."

"Bernie?" Claire asked. Dr. Provano hit the call button for the elevator as he nodded to her.

"Oh yes. It burns like heck, apparently." He shrugged. "I wouldn't know, I never had to go into the labs during red level security lock downs." The doors slid open silently and he ushered Claire inside. There was only one floor button, which the doctor pressed. The doors slid shut and they rode down to B1 in silence.

When they stepped out Claire was surprised to see that the whole floor was rather small, with only one door and another heavily locked elevator. Half way between the elevators was a large metal detector and to their left a man was in a booth that resembled a bank teller window. He saluted Dr. Provano who smiled and nodded at him in return. "The work day ends at 6:30pm for most around here, so we're not likely to encounter many on our journey. Lab security personnel stay on call at this floors guard station until all the basement floors are vacated. After, the elevators are shut down. We--" Noticing Claire was no longer walking with him, Dr. Provano turned and gazed at her inquisitorially. Claire stopped right before she walked through the metal detector.

"I take it guns aren't allowed any further, huh?" She asked.

"I'm afraid not, Ms. Redfield." He replied, looking as if he was repressing the urge to make a scandalized expression. And failing. Claire sighed.

A drawer on the front of the booth popped open. Claire looked at it and looked at the guard. "You'll get them back when you come up, miss." His voice assured her over the intercom. She unbuttoned her blazer and pulled her Beretta out of her shoulder holster and placed it in the drawer. Next she slid the blazer sleeve up and unstrapped a sheath she had affixed to her forearm. It contained her MercWorx Equatorian that her brother had given her for her birthday that last year.

"That's it." Claire said wistfully, buttoning her blazer back up. The guard nodded to her and closed the drawer. She started to walk away when the guard held up her weapons.

"Excellent choices, by the way, ma'am." he said with a smile. She smiled back, thanking him for the compliment.

She made it through the metal detector with no problem, though Dr. Provano looked rather green around the gills. She guessed the most dangerous thing the man ever encountered was probably a cap gun. "Do you bring all the equipment and materials down this way too?" Claire asked. The doctor shook his head.

"No. There's a service elevator specifically for those shipments. It's entrance is located on the ground floor of the ware house." He paused. "I can show it to you if you like." Claire shook her head no.

The elevator required the same treatment as the last, and with a quick card swipe and punching in of a password they were in. Dr. Provano cleared his throat before speaking next. "The second floor is drug development. We don't invent medicines here, but we perfect them. We take a good thing and make it better and for that reason the scientists calls this the "Tweaking Floor"." Claire wondered if the slang was lost on the doctor.

The doors slid open on B2, revealing a long L shaped hallway.

Going from room to room made Claire realize just how much of a farce the liaison program TerraSave had really was. She was not qualified to properly analyze the stuff on the checklist. Instead of one liaison it should have been a whole team of professionals. When Dr. Provano commented on her rather sour expression Claire waved him off with the explanation that she was just tired. She tried to hide her growing dissatisfaction after that.

On B3 they had to go through decontamination before entering and leaving. It wasn't too bad as far as those things went. All Claire had to do was wash her hands and get sprayed with a rather pleasant smelling sanitizer. The "dirty floor", which Dr. Provano told her the scientists called it, dealt with the study of germs and bacteria. The floor was shaped the same way as the second level, but the similarities stopped there. She couldn't even recognize half the equipment used in those labs and actually had to have Dr. Provano help her identify what exactly she was supposed to be checking out.

When they returned to the elevator, Dr. Provano hit the call button and spoke again. "We started actively using the fourth floor this month. The scientists refer to it as "the Dungeon". I can't say I'm all that familiar with it as I rarely venture down." He chuckled. "I'm not sure if it earned it's nickname because it's so far down or because the lab supervisor is notorious for being less than personable at times." When the doors slid open they both stepped inside. "The fourth floor is Cellular Research. It's nothing fancy compared to many other labs, but it's still kinda cool having it in our repertoire if you ask me."

B4 was T-shaped, two labs on either side and one straight in front of them. The door to the lab furthest from them stood ajar and Claire could see the lights were on. "I guess he's here." Dr. Provano chirped, leading Claire into the first lab. Everything she saw in the first two labs was exactly like what she saw on the other floors.

No mutants.

No zombies.

It was pristine. The normality of the place almost made her want to trust the exuberant man. Almost.

When they entered the last lab Dr. Provano's already chipper demeanor seemed to spike. "Albert, are you in here?" He called in a sing-song voice. Claire twitched. What a horrible name for someone to have, especially in a pharmaceutical laboratory. Claire heard a stool scrap across the floor in one of the cubical-like work stations.

"Yes, Micheal?" A voice asked with a exasperated sigh. Albert stepped out and looked at Micheal crossly before landing on Claire. Eyes, that weren't a shade of blue the last time she had seen them, widened in shock briefly before narrowing as their owner gave her a sickeningly sweet smile.

"This is Ms. Redfield. She is our liaison from TerraSave." Claire barely heard Dr. Provano as her blood froze in her veins. Any misguided trust that she had been letting her self build in Stella Drugs shattered instantly.


	4. Chapter 3

Killing Persephone – Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Same as prologue.

A/N: I reiterate, this is a major AU.  
Thank you to my reviewers :) I'm rather shy when it comes to reviews and I always assume I'm going to get the worst. It's a nice surprise when I get positive ones.

* * *

But his eyes were blue. _Blue_! This man in front of her had blue eyes. Blue, suspiciously glaring eyes that seemed to hold her tightly, captive in their intense--

Claire cursed in her mind, breaking herself out of the state of panic and fear. In its place grew anger and hatred. Which was then replaced by confusion.

Blue, God damn it! Blue as the mother fucking _sky_ when they were supposed to be red and blatantly evil.

"Do you two know each other?" Dr. Provano asked conspiratorially, as if he thought he stumbled upon a rather juicy secret.

Wesker's smile widened then, putting Janice's overly enthusiastic expressions to shame. He strode to Claire briskly, not a slow saunter or in an inhuman blur, but an excited, quick stride. Before she could process what he was doing, she was enveloped in his arms in a warm hug. "Don't cause a scene." He whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. She felt light-headed being that close to him, memories of his threats and physical attacks stirring in her mind.

He withdrew from her and held her at arms length. Though his smile was bright his eyes were deadly, fixing her with an intense stare that was loaded with warning. She wanted to scratch away the feeling of his lips until her ear bled, but she figured that might be considered "causing a scene".

"It's so nice to see you again, dear heart. I wasn't aware you were on Team TerraSave." He released her then and stepped back, watching her intently.

"I can't say I expected to see you here either." Claire muttered. Never in a million years would she even pretend to be happy to see the bastard, so cold indifference was the route she chose. She didn't know what he would do if she stirred up shit now, and frankly she did _not_ want to know.

She turned quickly to Dr. Provano and gave him a small, flipant smile. "You know, everything I've seen so far has been phenomenal. I think we could easily call it a night here. I trust your last lab is as excellent as all the others!" She hoped it didn't come out too hurriedly.

"I can't say I condone this Ms. Redfield, but if you feel comfortable not giving this lab the same treatment as the others, who am I to stop you?" Dr. Provano said with a smile. She knew getting out was on his mind too. Granted it was probably for an entirely different reason, but she could use it to her advantage.

"Good, I would just hate to disturb Albert," She all but spat the name, "and my feet are just so exhausted from all this walking--"

"I'm actually just finishing up for the night myself," Wesker ventured, "If you wouldn't mind, would you wait up for me? I'd love to catch up, Claire." He all but purred. Claire felt her right eye twitch and she kind of threw up in her mouth a little.

...Not really, but she found the silky way he said her name to be rather sickening.

"Oh, we can wait for you!" Dr. Provano offered, either unaware of Claire's discontent or reveling in it. Wesker immediately went back into the cubical and brought out a tray, which he placed in a refrigeration unit on the far side of the lab. After he wiped down his station and threw away his gloves he strode over to them casually.

"Shall we?" Wesker asked, holding the door open for Claire. Unbeknownst to Dr. Provano she glared daggers at the blonde menace as she exited. Wesker just smiled warmly at her in response. The friendly, ever so slightly flirty act was like a jagged piece of glass shredding her nerves. It beat being, well, beat, but it was a taunt and she knew it.

Claire was quiet on their way back to the elevator, the two men talking beside her. Wesker was uncharacteristically sociable, but then again she had known him only as a traitorous bastard. Maybe this stern yet slightly warm persona was what made it so devastating for Chris and his team mates when Wesker's intents were revealed. He seemed likable, if one didn't know a cold hearted killer dwelt under his facade.

When they climbed into the elevator car she made sure to keep Dr. Provano between herself and Wesker. She didn't think he would suddenly decide to eviscerate her in front of his boss, but she knew better than to assume she was safe.

On their way up to B1 Provano tried to chat with Wesker about the supervisor on the third floor, subtly hinting that he thought she could use Wesker's guidance. Wesker not so subtly told him he thought she was an incompetent hack.

When the elevator opened they caught sight of four guards piling into the elevator to the ground floor. "Cutting off early, guys?" Dr. Provano asked as they filed out of the car.

"Wait!" Claire yelled, pushing passed both men she accompanied, forgetting that one would likely rip her arm off and beat her with it for the offense. "What about my side arm?" As she stepped through the metal detector a guard stepped from what Claire assumed was the door to the guard station. He smiled, holding up her Beretta and knife. She smiled brightly at him, taking back her possessions. "Thank you, sir." She said before strapping everything back in its proper place.

Claire turned back to Wesker and Dr. Provano as the remaining guard called the elevator. She wanted to ask Dr. Provano if he knew of a close by hotel or something, but didn't want Wesker to know where she was staying. She would probably be safer just climbing in her car and not stopping until she reached Manhattan.

She awkwardly watched them chat idly until the elevator came back.

The four piled in and even though she wasn't standing next to him, she still felt uncomfortably close to Wesker. There could be no distance great enough between them. As long as he was alive, she knew that her and her brother would never be safe.

When they exited the elevator Claire was surprised to see that the sun had completely set and the world was pitch black beyond the windows. The guard bid them all a good night as he headed in the direction of the main entrance. "I think I'm going to call it a night. It was a pleasure meeting you Dr. Provano." Claire said as she nonchalantly started backing her way in the direction the guard had left.

"Leaving so soon?" Wesker questioned, nonchalantly stalking her step for step.

"I'll be an absolute wreck in the morning for my drive back. It's best that I get what ever sleep I can." Claire replied, waving dismissively.

"You're forgetting your brief case, Ms. Redfield!" Dr. Provano informed her, as if he was being helpful. The clueless little man probably only thought he was saving her from some extra trouble, but Claire wished she could have punched him square in the nose. She muttered a curse that the doctor missed, but judging by his cruel smirk Wesker caught.

"Ah... yes." Claire tried to think of a good excuse to just leave it and run, but couldn't think of anything that didn't sound rude or crazy. "My briefcase." She hugged the clip board tight to her chest and peeled her eyes from Wesker to look at Dr. Provano imploringly. He smiled at her obliviously and called the above-ground elevator. Wesker followed them into the car and, after hitting the button for the second floor, pried one of Claire's hands from her clip board effortlessly. He had put himself between her and Dr. Provano, blocking the mans view enough that he didn't see her recoil. She composed herself and stared at him emotionlessly even though she thought she might throw up from anger and disgust at the contact.

"I have to make note of my research from tonight, so I'm going to be here for a little while. You can stop by before you leave if you like." He squeezed her hand then, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough for her to feel his strength. The door to the elevator slid open, but Wesker did not move, his eyes fixed on Claire. They said nothing, and stared at each other long enough for the door to start to slide closed. Wesker reached out a hand, triggering the motion sensors into opening the door once again. "Well?" He asked, his face dark with annoyance at her refusal to answer. He squeezed her hand tighter, this time sending a pinch of pain through it.

"Alright." Claire growled. Wesker grinned at her before slipping out.

"I'm room 222." Wesker informed her as the door closed, cutting off her view of his annoyingly pleased face. She sighed, her shoulders sagging.

"Is there something between you and Albert?" Dr. Provano asked. Claire was about to inform him that, yes, there was what you could call bad blood between them. But when she turned her attention on the cheery fellow, she paused. He was giving her what he probably thought was a knowing look, a teasing grin on his lips. Claire held in her breath, trying to keep herself from slapping the expression off his face.

She huffed and waved off the doctor, throwing in a fake smile for good measure. "Oh, no. He's just an old coworker of my brothers, that's all."

"I see." Dr. Provano replied in a tone of voice that let her know that he didn't exactly believe her. It made her want to reveal the history between the two of them, but she was sure that this little man wouldn't believe her. Though she had been part of making evil pharmaceutical companies, zombies and G-virus mutations a part of public knowledge in the past, she didn't know if he would believe her about Wesker. She also didn't know if he was the right person to tell, either. For all she knew he could be in Wesker's circle.

When the elevator doors slid open again they were on the fourth floor. Two janitors were going from office to office, vacuuming and emptying garbage cans. As they walked through the hall Dr. Provano greeted both by name (Alvin and Greg, Claire made a mental note of), causing both men to wave back cheerily. Again they went through the elegant waiting room and again they were in Dr. Provano's equally elegant office. Claire picked up her brief case from where she had left it. There were no sensitive documents to worry about someone picking through, but her mind still reeled with the possibility. If this ditzy, cheery little man would hire someone like Wesker, just how trust worthy were they really?

She watched silently as Dr. Provano packed up his lap top and pulled on a light jacket with "Stella Drugs Inc" embroidered on the back. When he was done, she spoke.

"So..." Claire started innocently. "How did Wes-- Albert land his job here?" She caught herself in what she was sure would have been a faux pas, and yet again the man seemed completely oblivious. He just looked at her with a small, rueful smile as he shook his head. At first she took this as an indication that he wouldn't tell her, but he spoke. "Albert Wesley is a very brilliant man, perhaps too brilliant for our facility here. The smarts on him are _amazing_." Judging by the tone in his voice, if there was an Albert Wesker--_excuse me_, Claire corrected her self, _Wesley_-- fan club, Dr. Provano would be president. "It was simply a happy turn of fate. We were opening up our Cellular Research lab and needed a lab supervisor. He was the most outstanding out of all our applicants." He didn't elaborate further, which made Claire wonder what exactly was on his resume.

Since Wesker was being subtle, wearing contacts, going by a new last name and not throttling her at first sight, she doubted that Stella Drugs was privy to his history. Some of it at least. She didn't think Dr. Provano would let on if he knew Wesker was a sociopathic freak of nature, but she was doubting that it was something he was aware of. "Ready Ms. Refield?" Dr. Provano asked, snapping her from her thoughts. Claire nodded, and they exited the office and made their way down the hall to the elevator. On their way back Dr. Provano bid goodnight to the janitors.

When they walked into the elevator Dr. Provano pressed both the button for the ground floor and the second floor. Claire stared at the lit up buttons, a cold sweat breaking out down her back. Wesker was expecting her, waiting for her to walk into his lair like a stupid lamb into a slaughter house.

How was she going to get out of this one? How could she possibly---

Before she knew it the elevator slid open, revealing a long hallway lined with office doors. She stood frozen, unsure what to do. "Well, goodnight Ms. Redfield. It was a pleasure and an honor meeting you." Dr. Provano held out his hand, which Claire shook weakly. She gave him a watery smile before replying.

"Same here, doctor. I'll let my supervisor know what a wonderful facility you run." _Again, _the doctor was oblivious to her discomfort (_Am I really that great of an actress?_ Claire wondered) and instead beamed at the compliment. Claire stepped out of the elevator, her legs feeling unsteady in her nervousness. She turned and they both waved to each other as the door closed.

As soon as it shut Claire looked up to watch the row of numbers above the elevator as the car descended to the level bellow her. When it hit the first floor she pressed the call button, cautiously looking over her shoulder. No sign of Wesker. Thank God.

She could get out of this, all she had to do was keep calm and be as quiet as possible. In less than five minutes she would be peeling out of the parking lot, and in less then an hour she would be back on the interstate.

The light lit up, indicating the car was on the second floor. A moment later the door slid open. She was about to step inside just as a large, beefy man was about to step out. She gave him a once over, noting his rather muscle bound frame and the rather large scars on his face. He wore a security uniform with the Stella Drugs logo, his name embroidered underneath. 'Jacque'.

"Um... excuse me," she said quietly, but the man continued to stare at her, unmoving. When he finally did exit the elevator, he didn't move to the side and let her through. Instead he moved straight forward, and Claire instinctively knew that it would be trouble if she tried to dash around him. She was forced to back peddle slowly, her eyes fixed cautiously on the security guard. Her stomach sank as she watched his scarred lips twitch into a mockery of a smile.


	5. Chapter 4

Killing Persephone - Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Don't own RE or the characters, yadda yadda yadda...

A/N: I do have a specific direction I'm heading in with this, but I'm unsure how much more I want to reveal. If someone wouldn't like the direction I'd want them to know before hand so they wouldn't waste their time, but on the other hand I don't want to spell it out so it's predictable. Decisions, decisions. Also, sorry for the constant reposting. I kept reading it over after I got it all uploaded and stuff and... eek!! Type-o's! How embarrassing!

Also, Jack Krauser's appearance could technically be canon if you go by the Game Cube version instead of the PS2 version (I don't think Separate Ways is on the GC port). But, still, AU. So very, very Au.

AND!! Thank you for all the watches/feedback. I hope ya'll continue to enjoy it :3

* * *

"Uh, Jacque? Excuse me?" Claire tried again, shifting her brief case from her right hand to her left just in case she needed to draw her gun.

"That's just an alias. You can call me Jack." He informed her as the door to the elevator slid shut behind him. Wesker was starting to slip from her mind, replaced by this new threat.

"Jack. Right." Claire replied, her right hand twitching. She didn't know if it would be prudent to go for her gun quite yet, but she still craved the feeling of the soothing weight in her hand.

"A little nervous are you Claire?" He asked, crossing his arms. She ceased her nervous twitching, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Do I know you?" Suspicion tinged her voice as she glared at the muscle bound obstacle in her path.

"No, but I know you. How did you like your flowers, by the way?" The question sent her mind reeling. She had thought they were from one psycho, but they were really from another. The other one she could deal with using a good restraining order. This one... this one looked like he might take a bit of C4, a whole police squad and possibly a rocket launcher to properly "handle". She needed to get away from him. Fast. There had to be some other way out of there.

Claire turned on her heels and began to stiffly walk away. Straight into Wesker's hard chest.

_Perfect_, her mind snarled bitterly.

"I_ thought_ I heard talking." Wesker said, a lilt of amusement to his voice. Claire tried to pull away, but he held tight with an ease that indicated he was barely exerting his strength to restrain her. She paused to glare at him before swinging as hard as she could, clocking him in the side of the head with her brief case.

Wesker smacked the offending bludgeon out of her hand, causing papers to fly everywhere as it sprang open and clattered to the floor. Jack guffawed behind Claire as Wesker seethed down at her. She met his raging expression with one of her own.

Wesker looked from Claire to Jack, his expression loosing its severity only slightly as he met the other mans eyes. "I see you've met Mr. Krauser. He's one of my best men." Claire continued to seethe herself, her face contorted in disgust.

Jack was confused, his eyes flying between his boss and potential victim. "I take it you already know each other." He muttered.

"Oh yes." Wesker purred, stroking her hair. Claire jerked away from the touch. "Ms. Redfield and I go way back."

"I see." Jack replied. Claire felt like her skin was crawling under his intense gaze. His attention didn't go unnoticed by Wesker either.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Krauser?" Wesker asked nonchalantly.

"Do you have plans for her?" Jack motioned towards Claire.

"I'm sure I could fit _something_ into my busy schedule. Why, do you?"

"I wanted to send a message to someone. That's all."

"Hm." Claire felt like a caged animal listening to their conversation. Helpless and full of rage. "Who, pray tell, would you be sending a message to?"

"Your friend and mine, Leon Scott Kennedy." Jack replied, once again his lips twisting into a mockery of a smile.

"Such an infuriating yet insignificant boy. Do you fancy him, dear?" Wesker asked Claire, his voice condescending. She actually did a little bit, but she wasn't about to tell Wesker that.

"He's a fellow survivor, nothing more." Claire ground out. "I haven't seen him in months, and it wasn't exactly under the most romantic of circumstances."

"Ah, yes, the Harvardville incident." Wesker wistfully recalled the situation as if it might have held some fond memory. "Truly fascinating. It made for such an interesting study of the T-Virus and G-Virus mutations. It--" Claire struck him between his jaw and throat with the heel of both her hands in an upward motion causing him to stumble back from her, temporarily stunned. It was an impulsive move, one that she regretted as soon as she did it. She bested Wesker twice in under ten minutes. While she knew she it was an impressive accomplishment, all she could think of was _Oh... shit. He's going to be pissed._

She should have formulated a better plan, but being considered nothing more than a tool to hurt people she cared for, then hearing the deaths of hundreds of people being discussed in such a positive manner, in addition to the day she had been having up to that point... she couldn't blame herself too harshly for snapping.

Without pausing Claire pushed passed Wesker, simultaneously kicking off her unsteady heels, and ran down the hallway. She was hoping for a stairwell, or at the very least a window to jump through.

When she heard Jack behind her her adrenaline started to kick in fiercely. She knew Wesker was calculating. While violent, he was also methodical. He _possibly_ wouldn't kill her out of anger. He would want to plan it. This Jack person... he was a wild card. She didn't know what he would do to her if he caught up and frankly, she didn't want to know.

She skidded around the corner of the hallway, cursing her nylon stockings. An exit sign glowed at the end of the hall like a beacon, causing Claire to push herself harder. She knew she could hit the door before Jack, but she knew she'd have to slow down in order to open it and get through. It would take seconds she didn't have.

Claire pulled her Beretta from her shoulder holster and turned, pointing the gun at Jack's face. If she had let herself, she would have been surprised with just how close he was. She flicked off the safety and pulled the trigger twice, the shots echoing painfully off the walls as the bullets hit her pursuer in the face point blank. He stopped chasing her, but did not go down.

"Fuck!" He cursed, grasping his face in his hands when his brains should have been splattered against the wall. She decided she would think about it later, when she had time.

Claire pushed the surprise away as she skidded to a stop in front of the stairwell exit and pulled open the heavy door. She dashed inside and down the stairs, taking them two at a time in her haste. When she reached the first floor she barreled through the door and found herself standing in a dark cafeteria. It was illuminated only by a lamp post that stood outside of a large picture window that overlooked the courtyard she had seen earlier.

She spotted a pair of double doors, light filtering in through the crack underneath the heavy wood. Claire ran for them, her feet almost sliding out from under her with the sudden start. Claire made sure to thank what ever deity was looking out for her when they were unlocked and swung open with ease under her weight.

She passed the elevators she had used earlier and a couple of rather surprised looking guards on her way to the atrium. They did not let her go unnoticed. "Sir, a woman just ran by with a gun. Should I pursue?" one spoke into his radio, watching her retreating back.

"She's mine!" A voice roared back in response from the cafeteria, causing cold sweat to break out all over Claire's body. Her adrenaline carried her through the atrium and into the night air in no time, the horrendous proclamation reverberating in her mind.

Claire's vision tunneled as she approached the parking lot. All she could see was the car and all she could hear was the blood rushing in her veins. She reached in her pocket and grabbed her keys, her hands feeling numb and unstable. She knew she was too shaken up to drive, but it didn't look like she had a choice.

She hit the unlock button as she approached and quickly climbed into the drivers seat. Soon the engine roared to life and she threw the car in reverse, looking out the back windshield. She only made it about two feet when the car jerked to a halt, Claire's panic addled mind barely registering the ear splitting sound of shredding metal.

She looked through the front windshield at Jack who stood before her, his left arm... she had no idea what was going on with his left arm. There were unnatural, inhuman shapes and sinew that just didn't want to register with her brain. With even more tearing of metal he ripped his arm from the engine, the limb instantly turning into a more recognizably human form. He stalked towards her door and tore it open.

Claire launched herself across the seats and out the passengers side door. She was sprinting again, her muscles groaning and complaining as she pushed herself towards the large gate.

At first she thought she was hallucinating as the entrance quickly grew smaller and smaller, but soon she realized that the huge steel doors were sliding shut. They were securely closed when she skidded to a halt in front of them, at a loss at what to do.

She pressed her back against the cold doors, taking in big gulps of air as her eyes darted over the sparsely lit parking lot. She saw no sign of Jack, no sign of Wesker, no sign of guards. She knew better than to assume she was alone though.

"Show yourself!" She called out, the fatigue of having expended herself painfully evident in her voice. She heard a metallic, tinkling sound. Claire looked down to her battered, stocking clad feet to see two small, round pieces of metal bouncing as if they were dropped from-- Claire's head snapped up as she backed away from the doors. Perched above her on top of the wall was Jack. He stood there with his arms crossed, watching her with a condescending sneer on his face.

"I thought you might want those back."


	6. Chapter 5

Killing Persephone - Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Hasn't changed.

A/N: Had a month or so where I was without a computer. Hopefully that will never, ever happen again. Sorry for the delay!

She continued to back away from the doors, weighing her options even as Jack effortlessly leapt off the top of the wall and landed in a crouch at her feet. He looked up at her with that twisted smile of his, letting her know just how much he was enjoying their game of cat and mouse. "I can honestly say you surprised me, I wasn't expecting you to drop into my lap like a gift from God. At least here I can play a little before finishing you off."

"You're one of those jerks who takes pride in how sadistic they are, aren't you?" She asked, continuing to back up. Despite her cockiness, she knew she was screwed. The strikes she had gotten in earlier against Wesker were simply pure luck. She did not have the option of surprise this time. She was exhausted, inexperienced with fighting humans and all too aware of her chances against this hideous man.

"We can't all be heroic and perfect like that bastard Leon." He replied, standing. "Or you." Claire glared at him as he started towards her. Jack smiled down at her menacingly.

"Why me?" She asked. "Why use me to get back at Leon?" The noble, self-sacrificing part of her was glad that no one else had to deal with Tall, Blonde and Ugly. But at the same time, what made her so special? Leon and her weren't exactly bosom buddies.

"If it wasn't for your story in The Metropolitan Times, you wouldn't matter." He said with a small chuckle. She found herself cursing the story once more. If-- _when_, she corrected herself-- she got out of this, some hapless reporter was going to find themselves with her boot up their butt. "I went through Hell with Leon too. Only you came out of it unharmed-- twice! I was ruined in the eyes of my superiors. I was expendable." He shrugged as if it didn't bother him.

Claire tried to mentally write off the slight tremor in her hands and voice to the cold and not to the feelings of helplessness and fatigue that were starting to overwhelm her. "The flowers were a bit much."

"Were they? I'll remember that for the next person I kill." Quicker than she thought possible, he made a move to grab her. But Claire dropped to the ground, away from his large hands. She didn't think or aim, didn't have the sense to with the last remaining reserves of adrenaline that were kicking in. She fired three times, the noise nothing compared to the thoughts of her impending death.

As soon as the rounds left her gun she regretted acting so impulsively. At least they caught him in the stomach instead of going wild, causing him to stumble back as he clutched the injury. She pushed herself to her feet, and unloaded the rest of her clip into his face and neck.

Jack Krauser did not drop. Not that she expected him too, but it would have been nice if he at least continued to stumble.

Instead he glared at her as blood bubbled from the holes, the bullets already being rejected by his body as the wounds healed. She went to pistol whip him across the face, but he grabbed the barrel, the metal twisting under his bloody fingers. Instead of playing a pointless game of tug-o-war she released her hold on the weapon and stepped back, watching helplessly as he threw it to the side like garbage. One of the bullets fell from his body and hit the pavement. Then another.

Claire unsheathed her knife and charged at him, catching him in the chest with a wide slash. He grabbed her wrist and forced it above her head, practically lifting her off the ground. He looked down at the gash she gave him before looking back at her with a cruel smile. "Ironic lucky shot." He grumbled. He pried the blade from her hand before tossing her to the side like a rag doll.

She rolled when she hit the ground, finally coming to rest on her stomach. Her lungs burned, the air having been knocked out of them. Claire gasped against the pain, pushing herself to her knees.

Jack wrapped his fingers in her hair and jerked her to her feet, craning her head back at an uncomfortable angle. Claire cried out in surprise and pain as he pressed the dull side of her knife against her throat, rubbing the metal against the exposed area. It was so bitterly cold she thought it might break her skin despite the dullness. "We're going to have a lot of fun." Jack assured her.

"I think that is quite enough." Wesker's voice came from behind them, slightly disgusted and hoarse. "I don't recall giving you permission to enact your plans, Mr. Krauser." Claire almost expected Jack to slit her throat anyway, and nearly fainted with relief when he simply shoved her back to the ground and stepped away from her.

For a brief, confused moment she thought that they had left her alone. But then Wesker's sensible black leather shoes came into view. She looked up at him as he offered her his hand.

Despite her exhausted state she had her senses about her enough to scoff. She brought herself to her feet without his help, glaring at the outstretched hand with malice. "I take it you were waiting for the right moment to play hero?" Claire asked.

"I do not play the hero, as you should know." He replied. "I would have stopped your pathetic excuse for a fight sooner if I wasn't so busy popping my trachea back into place and relearning how to breathe." She would have laughed in satisfaction if she wasn't sure doing so would insure her untimely death at the hands of her "rescuer".

"You can't get away with this. Any of it." Her voice trembled as she shivered, causing her to flush with embarrassment. It made her sound too weak for her liking.

"I can and will, Ms. Redfield." Wesker replied, allowing a small secretive smile, as if the bit of information was just between the two of them. "Come with me peacefully. If you refuse, you can stay out here in the cold and continue to fight a loosing battle against Mr. Krauser." He offered her his hand again. She looked from it to Jack, who's wounds were already closed. He trailed his finger across his neck in a slicing motion.

"I'm probably going to end up as some twisted experiment if I go with you. At least I know he'll just kill me." Her reply caused an expression of frustration to cross his face.

"I assure you, having you alive and well would be most beneficial to me."

"Why?" She demanded.

"I'd rather talk business inside. You have my assurance that no harm will come to you, so long as you humor me." His annoyance gave way to satisfaction when she eyed his hand warily. She sagged, the stress of the day catching up to her. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be safe.

"I'll humor you. For now." Claire replied. Wesker chuckled, approaching her as if to take her by the arm. She hurriedly backed out of reach, holding her hands up defensively. "Just... don't touch me." She ground out.

Wesker smiled, nodding in acknowledgment of her wishes. He turned on his heels and started walking casually back towards the building. Claire cast one last glance at Jack before falling in step behind him.

Behind her Jack fumed. And plotted.


	7. Chapter 6

Killing Persephone - Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Still unchanged.

A/N: Thanks for all the kind words. I read the reviews peaking threw my fingers because I'm so afraid of a bad one ...I'm not talking constructive criticism but someone writing just "FAIL" or something. L to the O to the L. Thanks for all the feedback, and thanks for your patience. This is short, but I wanted to get something out because it's been a while. School = not cool. How dare it distract me from fanfiction??!!

Edit A/N: Instead of adding a new chapter, I added onto this one because 1,000 words for a chapter doesn't sit right with me. I also had to go back and change some things to make my idea mesh better. I have not slept for 24 hours (don't ask) so apologies for grammatical errors that I may or may not go back and fix :b

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Wesker's office was white, sterile and barren of any personal belongings, save for a coat and a scarf hanging on a rack in the corner.

Claire would have actually expected something more stereotypically sinister such as mahogany furnishings, leather upholstery, an iron maiden... his office was rather disappointing. It wasn't the space of a sane, healthy person by a long shot. But it was just so unexpectedly bland.

He leaned against his desk, staring at her as if she was a really complicated math equation. She could practically hear the gears in his head turning as he contemplated her presence.

Claire sighed as she crossed her arms self consciously. "Could you please tell me what your offer is so I can hurry up and say no?" She asked tiredly, unable to summon the will to maintain a civil tone. Her anxiety had yet to pass, but she was determined to hide it under anger.

"How sure are you that you'd say no?" Wesker asked her innocently, inspecting his well manicured nails as if he was talking about something as inconsequential as the weather.

"I'm very sure." Was her reply. Wesker cocked his head to the side.

"Even if doing so meant you would go back out to Mr. Krauser?" Claire hesitated, but gave an assured nod. Wesker stood straight and approached her, his scrutiny intensifying. "You do know that he wouldn't just kill you, don't you? I can assure you he would make it most unpleasant."

"Dying would be better than being your bitch." She didn't anticipate saying that, it just came out instinctively. Instead of recoiling in embarrassment she continued to hold her ground and maintained her indignation.

"Very interesting. But I won't let that happen," Claire gave a small scoff. She highly doubted it was because he secretly cared for her. Something was going on here and she didn't like it already. "Your demise and disappearance would bring undue attention to this facility and jeopardize what I wish to accomplish." Wesker informed her with a look of contempt. "Despite playing dumb earlier, I know you're a celebrity now. One that is famous for sabotaging pharmaceutical companies like this one. It would look awful suspicious if this was the last place you were seen alive. I can't risk that kind of exposure."

"That actually sounds like an enticing argument for letting Jack kill me." Claire sneered sarcastically.

"How would you like to guarantee your brothers safety? If mine and Chris's paths were ever to cross again, I would keep to the shadows and he would walk away none the wiser. I will never seek him out with the intention to destroy him." He looked disgusted as he said it, as if it was physically painful. It got her attention.

"What?" Claire asked, slowly unfolding her arms, her face a mask of surprise. She huffed, pushing away her desire to accept the offer on the spot. "I can't trust you Wesker. No one can." Her eyes narrowed as she thought about it more. "It would be a form of revenge on my brother for you, wouldn't it? To have his little sister align herself with you, you sick sadistic--" He swiftly grasped her shoulder, but made no other move. She figured he was about to harm her, but contained himself at the lest second.

"I swear on my life, your brother would be safe. All you would have to do is keep quiet about my presence." Claire shook her head furiously, pushing his hand off of her shoulder.

"No." She replied, her voice icy. "There has to be a catch. I know how much you hate him," She could feel her resolve faltering. Not because she thought he would keep up his word--she highly doubted he would-- but she was wondering if it was worth agreeing just to get out of there and to some place safe where she could formulate an actual plan. She rubbed her eyes tiredly. When she looked back to Wesker he had an eyebrow raised, as if he was silently asking Well?. "I'll do it."

She felt tears prick at the back of her eyelids and the bile churn painfully in her stomach. _This doesn't mean anything_. She mentally told herself, trying to ease her sense of self loathing. _I'll find a way out of this._

He held out his hand to her, smirking. She shuddered internally at the thought of touching him in such a friendly manner.

Claire held his eyes as her fingers slid into his palm. His skin was unnervingly warm, as if he just pulled his hand away from a heater. She felt his fingers curl around hers and squeezed back firmly as she gave his hand a strong shake.

She hated the liaison program more than ever now. Even though there weren't BOW's would she still betraying TerraSave by not making Wesker's presence known? To her, the answer was a resounding "yes". With that in mind, she took her hand as gracefully back from him as she could, resisting the urge to wipe the feel of his skin off on her pants.

"Now what do we do about Mr. Krauser?" His voice was contemplative, as if it was a perplexing mystery he just purposed.

Claire's eyes widened as her body tensed. "What about him?"

"It seems that Mr. Krauser is rather obsessed with you." Wesker leered at her then, an expression that sent alarm bells off in her head. "If you make it worth my while I may find it in my heart to keep him at bay."

"During our fight you made it sound like he needed your permission to "enact his plans" on me," Claire felt the tears pricking at her eyes more insistently, but refused to let them shed. Even though they were tears of anger, she knew he would interpret them as a sign of weakness.

"I did," he nodded. "And after enough time that a connection to this facility would seem improbable, I don't see how your death would concern me. If he behaves himself and I don't have any reason to say no, he may just get it." Claire stared at him as a smile slowly pulled across his face. "Of course, with your death our deal would be null and I would be free to continue to seek revenge against your brother."

"This is the catch," Claire muttered hatefully, so angry she didn't trust her voice to speak any louder.

"If you weren't so self-sacrificing I wouldn't have had to drag Christopher into this." He chuckled. Here was the sociopathic asshole she remembered. "Your fate now dictates his."

"What do want?" She advanced on him, her expression determined. "Tell me!"

"You." He said in a rather deadpan manner. Claire quickly took a step back, putting up her hands defensively.

"If this is a sexual thing, I'm just going to go outside now and let Jack kill me." She turned away from him and walked towards the door, more to hide the scandalized blush creeping up her neck and face than to actually go back outside.

Just... no. NO.

"I assure you Ms. Redfield, I'm not that desperate." She stopped in her tracks, wincing. She didn't appreciate the slight, but she was still pretty relieved that he wasn't going to perv out on her.

"Then elaborate, now." She demanded, resolving not to face him until her face stopped burning in embarrassment.

"If you do one thing for me, then I will make sure Mr. Krauser won't even think of hurting you ever again." His voice was that annoying purr from earlier, letting her know that it wouldn't be a small favor. "Just one thing, and you and your brother will--"

"Wesker!" She hissed his name as she turned to face him, her brow furrowed in aggravation. "Just tell me already!" It took every ounce of self control she had not to try to clock him upside the head. He paused, studying her face. His was damn pleased.

"I would be honored if you helped me harvest certain data and samples from this facility." Claire felt herself go pale. At that moment she wasn't paying enough attention to herself to realize that she must have asked him 'What?'. "I said I would be honored if you helped me harvest data and samples from this facility." He repeated, seeming to bask in her confusion.

"I don't--n-no--I can't," Claire stammered, holding her head. This was just wrong. Wesker hated her brother, hated her by association, he had taken Steve, did God knows what to his body... it was asking too much. She would never cooperate, black mail be damned. "I won't help you."

His face returned to a neutral state, but his eyes burned with intensity.

"Take a moment and think about it." His voice had an edge to it, but she couldn't tell if it was just annoyance or out right anger. "You said you would rather die at Mr. Krauser's hands than serve me _but do you still_, knowing that in the event of your death your brother would no longer be safe from me?" Claire just stared at him, unresponsive. "When you die I will go out of my way to hunt him down like an animal, and I will slaughter him as such. I promise you."

Claire snapped. She threw herself at him, grabbed the lapels of his lab coat and shook him. "If Jack tries anything, I'll tell!" She yelled, glaring up at him. "I'm not like you! You can't ask me to do this!"

He slapped her hands downward off of his coat. She swung to punch him, but Wesker dodged easily, grabbing her wrist and forcing it behind her back. He threw her face first up against the wall and pinned her, her arm feeling like it would break at any second. Despite the pain he was causing her, Wesker shushed her gently.

"I never said you were like me," His voice was sickeningly full of self-satisfaction. "But I will ask of you what I want. And why?" He chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "You hit it on the head earlier. I _would_ get satisfaction out of Redfield's little sister aligning herself to my will." Claire scoffed and tried to glare at him but couldn't turn her head far enough for it to be particularly threatening. "If you don't accept my offer to protect you that's your decision, but don't think for a second you'd get anything out of sabotaging me. If you ruin my plans in _any_ way, I won't bother sending Krauser." She couldn't see it, but his eyes narrowed into a fierce expression of hate. "I'll find you and kill you myself. And what I'd have in store for you--" he released her arm and turned her around, pressing her back against the wall with a firm grip on her shoulders, "it would make you beg for that imbecile." He spit it out with a growl as he held her with his eyes. "And then I will find your brother."

Her chest started contracting in silent, body wracking sobs that she refused to let him hear. She struggled out of his grasp, but did not run.

"What's your decision my dear?" He asked. There was no emotion in his voice. If she had heard amusement it would have kept her fighting and he probably knew it.

She nodded vigorously, her hands covering her mouth, trying to keep the sounds in.

"Yes what, Claire?" He sounded slightly irritated as he spoke.

"I'll do it!" She cried, doubling over. She took in great gasps of air, hyperventilating herself in an attempt to cease sobbing. He walked to his desk and pulled out his chair.

"You may want to sit down if you insist on such an emotional display." She ignored his thinly veiled taunt and sat in the chair. He watched her struggle for self control dispassionately. "Stay here while I go clean up the nice little mess you and Mr. Krauser made." He ordered. When she didn't respond, but continued to hyperventilate, he raised an eyebrow. "Do you hear me, or have I broken you so completely you've lost your wits?" He asked, tilting her head up by her chin to meet his eyes. She jerked away.

"Don't. Fucking. Touch me." Claire's voice was watery with tears, but it was still cold with rage. "I'll do what you say, just don't touch me." She tucked her head between her knees, making a conscious effort to slow her breaths.

"Fair enough." Wesker said with a smirk. "I shouldn't take long." She listened to his feet walk away, and then the door open and close behind him. Claire wrapped her arms around her thighs and squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to convince herself that the day did not happen.


End file.
